Uncharted
by muffle-kun
Summary: Alfred F. Jones, a navy officer, embarks on a journey to chase after the infamous pirate captain, Arthur Kirkland.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

* * *

Vagabonds and criminals litter the whole world, from the most infamous to the most discreet.

But there is one name nobody has unheard of, one name everybody fears; a pirate, a thief of the seas, hunter of gold and jewels, destroyer of anyone who dare block his path. He follows the scent of treasure like a hound after a piece of meat, hungry and relentless. But this man's primary senses are far superior than any normal being's, may it be human or animal. This pirate is gifted with powerful sorcery, of magic most deceitful; this pirate is gifted with the power of Change. He possesses the power to change into a fire-breathing dragon of onyx scales and golden eyes.

"BULLSHIT!" was exclaimed with a hearty laugh the same time "That's stupid, eh?" was said with a small grin.

Gilbert Weillschmidt slammed his beer on the table, chuckling at his companions' reactions.

"Whaaat?" he whined. "You don't believe me?"

"NO." was the unanimous answer laced with snickers and chuckles.

"BULLSHIT!" Gilbert laughed. "That legend is true, I tell you!"

"Come on, Gil. Can you imagine me or Matt turning into a bird?"

"No—"

"Al, a dragon's not a kind of—"

"Exactly! So how do you suppose can a man turn into a dragon?"

"—but you would make a fine parrot." Gilbert finished.

Silence ensued.

Then two burst out laughing.

"Bastards." Alfred F. Jones hissed at his friend and his half-brother but his insult went ignored as the eldest of the three raised his glass in a toast.

"To Alfred the parrot!" Gilbert cackled.

"To Alfred the parrot." Matthew Williams seconded, although he did in a much lower volume.

They drank in unison while Alfred looked on, sulking; Gilbert downed his drink in three messy gulps while Matthew opted for a slower, surer pace.

"Hey, don't look so down, we're just kidding—"

"He _knows_ that—"

"It's not like anybody can stand your noise either, Gil!" Alfred cried out, jumping to his feet. He took a sip from his own glass before leaning closer to his companions as if to let on a great secret.

"Ludwig complains. A LOT," he whispered then waggled his eyebrows for effect.

Gilbert only averted his eyes. "Well…He just can't take my awesome so—"

"That's good! At least now I know I'm not alone in suffering because of a loud older brother."

A duet of "MATTHEW!" echoed throughout the inn.

"See? Who knows, maybe someday you two can team up and spy on this _legendary_ pirate wearing parrot feathers and nobody'll notice the difference, eh?" the youngest commented, sniggering.

Gilbert and Alfred finally shut their mouths to frown like children, much to Matthew's amusement. They were so predictable.

"WAIT!" Alfred interrupted. "If this pirate is as mighty as you describe him to be…and he can change into a dragon or whatever…then…then why is he a pirate?"

The other two blinked.

"Huh?" was Gilbert's intelligent response.

"I don't quite get your question, Al."

"Why is he a pirate?" the taller blond repeated. "I mean…if he can change into a dragon, why not conquer the world that way? He breathes out fire, has huge claws and stuff…"

"See? You do believe the tale!" Gilbert pointed out excitedly.

"It's the opposite, Gilbert. He's questioning it." Matthew corrected and motioned for his brother to continue.

"Why would he bother changing back into a human? Why not stay as a dragon forever?"

The red-eyed man shrugged. "I don't know. He has his reasons. I'm not into details anyway, you know. It's an old story; people just kinda pass it around—"

Matthew snorted. "An old wives' tale, you mean."

"Or sailors'." Alfred added, smirking.

"But!" Gilbert raised his hand to silence them both. "This, for a fact, I know."

He lowered his voice to a whisper, leaning in the way Alfred did earlier.

"This pirate and his crew has robbed from and sunk over twenty merchant ships just last summer, and they did it not with a fleet but with just a single ship made of iron."

"Iron? That's impossible! And how does it sail? It'll sink!" Matthew whispered back hotly.

"Nobody in his right mind would make a ship out of iron, not even our crazy superiors in the navy! That's super heavy, dude!"

"Jones, keep your voice down! I don't know how they did it, but they did it and there are survivors, witnesses to that!" Gilbert argued back, still trying to keep his volume low. He was being too serious, too far from his usual annoying exuberance, for the brothers not to listen to him carefully. When they nodded in unison, the red-eyed man continued.

"The higher-ups are going bald plotting this son-of-a-bitch's downfall yet he slips through their fingers—OUR!—the navy's fingers like grease—"

"—or something else slimy, like a snake!"

"Snakes are not slimy, Al!"

"Stop interrupting me!" Gilbert hissed.

Matthew rolled his eyes and Alfred mumbled an apology.

"So they decided to fight the public's fear of him with the most powerful weapon available: GOLD." Gilbert paused, trying to build the tension.

"Our navy has offered a reward of 500,000 gold coins to anyone who can capture this man alive."

With that, the red-eyed man stood up and produced a piece of paper from inside his jacket and slapped it onto the table before him, right under the brothers' noses.

"Lieutenant Alfred F. Jones and Lieutenant Matthew F. Williams—"

"My middle name's not F—!" "His middle name's not F—!"

The younger men never got the chance to wonder how he inserted a nonchalant "whatever~" in his dramatic "Meet our new target!"

Commodore Gilbert Weillschmidt grinned manically and moved his hand away from the paper ever so slowly, revealing the face and the name of their most formidable enemy as of yet.

"Pirate Captain Arthur Kirkland!"


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2

* * *

**

The bar frequented by the three naval officers was just one of the many boasted by the port of Strathclyde. Situated on an island northwest of the Old World, Strathclyde was a favorite trading place among merchants. It allowed them to sell their goods to the rich countries of the Old World without treading the dangerous waters separating the island from the mainland. How the supplies reached the Old World was up to the island's inhabitants; a pocketful of gold coins always proved to be sufficient in silencing questions rarely asked.

Always buzzing with activity, many fail to surprise the Strathclyde environment. People come and go: dark-skinned slaves and their fair masters, hulking porters and haggling merchants; each was a face to remember for a day and forget on the morrow. So it wasn't a big deal when a fair-haired man came along with his equally fair-haired maid in tow.

Nothing exceptional happened when the door to Hellas's Tavern opened, revealing a man in a blue cloak and a woman dressed in a darker shade. Nobody turned his head to watch them stride towards the barkeep to order some drinks. No one blatantly stared, that is (except for the obnoxious officer at the table at the far corner who wolf-whistled at the sight of the girl and promptly got smacked by both his drinking buddies). But the man's expensive-looking cloak and the woman's elegant silvery hair were not missed by the watchful eyes of the bar's patrons, all skilled in the art of discretion.

They weren't the only ones watching though.

"You haven't met Hong's uncle yet, have you, Natalya?"

"I'm afraid not, Sir."

"You simply must, I tell you! He is most odd."

The girl looked at her companion. Nobody but him noticed her specially blank stare. Not even the barkeep lazily petting his cat in front of them.

"As odd as you, sir?"

"Good God, no!" her companion chuckled, nursing his glass of brandy. "You see, his name is—"

"Heya there, babe." a gruff voice interrupted.

Both of the newcomers craned their heads to see a burly man, probably a porter, take a seat beside the girl. His breath reeked of fish and rum when he spoke.

"D'you wanna have some fun tonight, sweet?"

Natalya sent him an icy glare. "No, but thank you, kind sir."

She moved to transfer seats but was instantly held back by a vise-like grip on her arm.

"No, wai' ye see…Ye see Imma lonely man…"

"Sir—"

The man started rubbing his thumb against her (fortunately clothed) arm, much to her disgust.

"Imma lonely man, an' I wish I had a…had a w'man like ye to…y'know, ease t' pain."

"I said NO!" she shrieked this time, gaining the attention of the other tavern customers.

"_No Al, you can't—"_

"_Come on! Look! He's hurting—"_

"_It's best not to interfere—"_

"_Matt—!"_

"_Let them sort it out, Jones. See? Her boyfriend's out to get him now."_

The blue-cloaked man had placed himself between the girl and her aggressor, who merely narrowed his eyes.

"If you would so kindly return to me my lady friend, gentleman, and ease your hold, it would be deeply appreciated," he said with a small pleasant smile.

"_But…but he's…__**small**__—"_

"_Tch. Big things come in small packages. Just watch."_

"_Or let's just get out of here."_

"If YE get the hell outta here an' return yer momma's skirt, ye'll spare yerself a good beatin', twerp!"

The man roared, flicking a finger on the would-be savior's forehead. The tavern erupted in hoots of laughter.

"_Uh-oh."_

"Come now, let's be civil—"

"Civil? HA!"

"Let me go!" Natalya twisted.

"Sir, I'm afraid you're hurting—"

"NOW, SEE HERE, BOY! If ye don't get outta my face this instant, Imma gonna smash yers inta shark food!"

"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!—"

"The robe's mine!"

"Cane's mine!"

"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!—"

"Hat!"

"Damn, look at those shoes, man!"

"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!"

Eager to please the audience that had gathered around them, the huge porter pushed Natalya away and cracked his knuckles. The girl was happily received by the crowd, who took the liberty of feeling her up, touching as much of her as they could as she twisted and pulled to try and set herself free.

The porter approached the much smaller man menacingly, grinning from ear to ear.

The cloaked man held up his hands…

"Sir, I do not wish to fight—"

…And was quickly sent crashing onto the floor when the next table failed to support the force of impact.

"Ye sayin' some'n, twerp?"

"You show 'im, man!"

"YEAH!"

The crowd cheered louder when the huge man advanced once more. Everybody was oblivious to the three men at the back scuttling towards the door and struggling against each other.

"Whoa! That's **beer** you're wasting!"

"Not now, Gilbert!"

"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!"

"He can't fight back, you morons—!"

"Al, shut it!"

"Come on! Let me at him! He's wasting precious fucking **beer** for heaven's sake!" the tallest shouted, his red eyes glaring holes at the back of the proud porter's head.

"Mattie he's gonna kill him!" Alfred yelled, fighting against his brother's hold.

"FINE!" Matthew pushed at both his brother and his friend. "FINE! Go and make a fool out of yourselves! Get yourselves KILLED! See if I care!" He thundered before grumpily taking a seat.

"Tch, as if that giant oaf can lay a finger on me!"

"I don't see you walking up to him, Weillschmidt!"

"Whaaaaat…I'm not the fucking police, Williams!"

The two glared at each other.

"Coward."

"Nah, just awesome. Hey where's—"

Matthew jumped to his feet.

"ALFRED!"


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3

* * *

**

He was slammed onto a table and when it had proved to be frail, his back had met the floor. Disoriented, he was given only a few seconds to breathe precious oxygen into his lungs before he was hauled to his feet and attacked once more. This time, his enemy's bald head greeted his cheekbone. It was a good thing that he had managed to jerk his head away at the last moment. The porter had wanted to give him a broken nose.

Bloody bastard.

"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!"

Every sound was magnified.

The crowd chanted. His enemy roared. His heart thundered in his chest. The adrenaline rushed through his veins, pounded in his ears.

The cut on his face sang.

His blood screamed.

He was getting excited.

The bigger man tried to pull him by the collar to throw him bodily once more. He fought against the hold. They scuffled. His enemy strangled him with one beefy arm. He smashed his knee against the man's side.

A fist swung forcefully.

The porter collapsed to the ground.

The chanting stopped.

No one dared to breathe as everybody watched the huge man choke on his own teeth and blood.

The cloaked man, panting slightly, smirked.

"Do forgive me, but I seem to have forgotten your speech earlier." He began and deliberately stepped towards the porter on the floor.

"What were you saying about shark food?"

He was answered by a snarl.

In an instant, the porter was back on his feet. With a mighty roar he lunged, which the smaller man easily sidestepped. The porter crashed onto the floor once more. The crowd started chanting again, but this time, calls for bets rang louder in the air.

After the bigger man decided to get up again, there was a great change in the brawl's development. Each of his blows were either gracefully evaded or returned with great force. Every minor slip by each participant proved to be costly. The porter's huge build and strength and the cloaked man's small frame and speed made them an equal match.

But then again, neither of them was told not to play dirty.

The close-quarter combat ceased when the cloaked man succeeded in lobbing his bigger opponent onto a table with a resounding crash. Cheers erupted from the members of the crowd who had placed bets on the smaller man. The porter on the floor looked like he wasn't getting up any time soon.

Triumphant and smirking from ear to ear, the cloaked man made his way to Natalya.

But never reached her.

Instead, he was spun around and a liquid substance was splashed onto his face, making his eyes burn. He hissed in pain.

"Not so cocky now, are ye?"

Beer.

The bloody retard splashed bloody beer onto his eyes.

He was really going to kill the giant oaf now.

The audience's chanting resounded in his head once again, now that they realized it wasn't over yet. He was again slammed onto hard wood, his opponent's beefy hand fixed upon his throat. The porter started squeezing the life out of him.

"—fucking **beer** for heaven's sake!"

"—he's gonna kill him!"

Stars exploded beneath his closed eyelids and if his impaired hearing was any proof, it probably meant he was dying. His eyes stung and he had cuts and bruises and his fists swelled in abuse, but all of the pain were fading, throbbing only dully. He was being strangled to death after a very, very disgraceful trick. He felt his heart wanting to burst with rage.

No matter what he had promised, he wasn't going to die shamefully like this.

With a flick of his wrist, a concealed dagger emerged from beneath his sleeve.

"ALFRED!"

He felt something slam onto the huge man throttling him and when it did, all of them tumbled to the floor. Opening one still hurting eye, he realized it was another man wrestling the porter to the ground. Blood rushed to his head and his ire tripled. He would have sliced his palm open had he not retracted the blade in time.

Stupid meddlesome git.

"RUN!" the said git yelled, turning to him.

He twitched.

He opened his mouth to yell a nasty retort back at the man but soft hands pulled him back. He looked up to see Natalya urging him to stand up, her eyes glinting in urgency. The people around them had started shouting their disapproval.

"No fair man!"

"Yeah! No fair!"

"Tha' was supposed to be me win!"

In one motion, the crowd surrounding them dived and joined the fray. He found himself buried underneath flailing limbs. Natalya was pulled under too.

"Alfred!"

"Jones, you imbecile!"

"Aaaaaaaaaaah!"

"Natalya!"

He found her arm and held on tightly. Kicking a man in the face and narrowly avoiding getting hit by a broken bottle, he managed to pull Natalya away from the mass of bodies. Together, they headed to the tavern's door.

The young man standing near the door stepped aside absently to make room for them. He was too fixated on the ongoing brawl, worry and barely hidden anger written on his face, but as they passed by him, he followed them with his gaze briefly.

Matthew Williams had a feeling it won't be long before he sees those green eyes again.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

* * *

Morning came too soon in Alfred's opinion. It found him half-buried under a pillow that felt like it was made of rock and a thin piece of cloth that can hardly be called a blanket.

After being involved in the bar fight, their search for a place to stay in resulted to innkeeper after innkeeper slamming doors to their faces. Alfred's and Gilbert's battered faces were not a welcome sight, Matthew had told them scathingly. He bashed their heads together for good measure when they threatened to knock down the last inn's entrance after being rejected by four others.

Soon, they found themselves in the storage room of Gilbert's brother's inn.

The inn was a decent enough place that the red-eyed man had always avoided in fear of being lectured by his younger brother, but as they had no other choice that night, Ludwig had let them in because Gilbert had threatened to _weep_.

The place was jam-packed with customers though, so Feliciano, Ludwig's partner, had helped set them up in a spare room where most of the food was kept.

Alfred had wanted to joke about keeping him and food inside the same room, but had kept his mouth shut after his half-brother threw a bottle of healing salve at his head. The younger blond had then turned his back to Alfred and ignored both him and Gilbert for the rest of the night.

"Hey at least it's free!" Gilbert had said in a half-assed attempt to break the tension before plopping down on his own makeshift bed. A sharp curse went flying out of his mouth when his head missed his pillow with an audible _crack!_.

Alfred couldn't remember falling asleep; just the thought that Matthew was mad at him sent chills up his spine and sleep avoided him like the plague.

When sunlight poured through the room's small window and burned through his eyelids though, he realized that he had managed to catch a few winks. Yawning, he shifted on his cot, murmuring his desire to sleep for a few more minutes.

His half-brother's terse warning answered him.

"Ship's leaving before noon. With or without you."

At that, Alfred scrambled to his feet. His legs got tangled on the sheets and he stumbled deafeningly, in time with Matthew banging the door close. Hissing and huffing, he ignored the pain and the way his eyes watered and proceeded to prepare for the day.

Nobody had seemingly heard of the brawl in Hellas's Tavern. No one looked up in fear of the blond young man with beautiful blue eyes who had wrestled with a much largely-built porter the night before; no one cared to praise him in his rescue of a poor terrified man just a few hours ago. He didn't even get a word of gratitude from the man he saved.

And Matthew, the only family he had, was angry at him on top of all that. He refused to speak to the older blond directly, content with sending him glares and frowns.

"This sucks," Alfred muttered.

A silver tray clattered to the floor.

He looked up to see a tearful Feliciano clutching his chest as if wounded.

"Y-you do not l-like pasta?"

Alfred blinked.

"Uwaaaaa! Ludwiiiiiig!" the brown-haired man ran to the kitchens, leaving Alfred gaping like a fish, Gilbert accidentally inhaling his food, and Matthew not caring as he finished his meal.

Most of the time, Ludwig didn't really care what people said about Feliciano's food; the payment was what was important—_dear Lord, he was becoming Roderich_. But he had housed his brother and his friends for a night out of pity, didn't pressure them to pay for what they ate, kept up with Gilbert slipping a few beers from the cellar, bothered to get up in the middle of the night to let said brother and friends in, got bothered by some customers who had guts to refuse to pay, and now Feliciano was crying because Alfred did not like the food.

Ludwig pushed the kitchen doors so hard they hit the walls and approached his three guests. Red from the tips of his ears, he appeared to be exhaling steam through his nose. Alfred backed away instantly.

Ludwig opened his mouth.

"**AH**!" Gilbert interrupted without a breath and shook his brother's hand. "Yes, Bruder! We were just leaving! Thank you! You have been very, very, _very_ gracious! Here, take this. It's not much but—"

"Bruder, this is the money I lent you—"

"—_Iwashonestlyhopingyou'dnevernotice—_OFF WE GO, BOYS!" the older brother practically screamed.

"Feli, I wasn't—"

Ludwig raised an eyebrow. Only HE was allowed to call his partner that.

"COME. ON. GUYS!" Gilbert's eyes were so wide they looked like they were going to pop out of their sockets.

"We're not allowed to call him Feli?I'm sorry—"

"—that Alfred is such a retard." Matthew butted in, offering Ludwig a small smile.

Alfred shut up and glowered at his half-brother, who glowered at him in return.

Ludwig exhaled heavily.

"It's fine. It's fine. Just… go." he replied, massaging his temples.

Looking pointedly at Gilbert, he added a simple "Take care."

Relief flooded the red-eyed man's face. "Ja! See ya next month, Bruder!"

"Ja. And I expect payment for the beer, Bruder."

"…shit."

* * *

"Shit."

The brick walls threw the swear word back at him. Somehow, he had made a wrong turn and he ended up alone in a blind alley. Matthew and Gilbert were nowhere to be found.

"Shit." Alfred repeated.

He turned on his heel and tried to retrace his steps, fuming. He wouldn't have gotten lost if it wasn't for the man who demanded that he pay the damages caused to Hellas's Tavern last night; the barkeep named Heracles. He had confronted Alfred upon exiting Ludwig's inn; separating him from his two companions who had been only a few steps ahead, confident that the blue-eyed man was right behind them.

But as much as he had wanted to help the man get the money to _feed his poor cats_, Alfred's commission wasn't due until he boards the warship _Konstanze_ with Matthew and Gilbert. What he had in his pockets was enough to buy supplies to last him the two-day journey at sea aboard a passenger ship before transferring to the navy-issued craft.

This he told Heracles but the barkeep insisted.

Alfred argued that he wasn't even the cause of the brawl.

Heracles argued back, saying the situation was under control until Alfred intruded.

Alfred then decided to make a run for it.

To his utter frustration, he realized that Heracles didn't even give chase.

Dizzy with hunger (he didn't manage to finish his meal thanks to Feliciano's tearful outburst and the fear of Ludwig's heated version) and the merciless heat of the sun, Alfred wandered the seldom-used roads of the town. He couldn't find his way back to the harbor, not with his determination overpowered by the need for food and his mind clouded by the lack of it. There weren't any shops around, so he couldn't buy something to eat. There were people, a handful of townsfolk scattered here and there minding their own business, much unlike the sea of merchants and workers at the port; and unlike them, these people seemed afraid of talking to an apparent foreigner. They all turn away and increase their pace when they see him.

Great.

He was lost, so hungry that he couldn't walk straight and the only people he can ask for directions are scared of him.

Swallowing another swear word that threatened to come past his lips, Alfred continued to walk, only vaguely aware of his surroundings.

By some miracle, he found himself back at the familiar streets of the port. The thick crowd indicated that he was indeed where he wanted to be. The environment buzzed with activity; traders selling their wares, customers arguing for bargains, ships' bells pealing and piercing the late noon air.

Oh no.

"MATTIE!" Alfred frantically hollered, craning his neck to look for any sign of his half-brother. Squeezing his way through the sea of people, he continued yelling different variations of Matthew's name, and Gilbert's. But none of the faces that looked up at him were familiar.

Unable to remember their passenger ship's name, he began to panic.

What if they had left without him? How will he contact them? Where will he go? Did they even notice he was gone? Was Matthew angry enough to leave him behind deliberately?

Wait.

Matthew _hadn't _told him the name of the ship.

His heart sank.

The idea of his half-brother abandoning him out of anger greatly outweighed his fear for being left behind.

Accepting the circumstances as his punishment, Alfred headed to Ludwig's inn. Maybe he can stay there until Matthew and Gilbert returned from their trip. But how long exactly does it take to hunt down a pirate?

He was roused from his musing when a person bumped into him.

"Oof!"

The other man stumbled to the ground after impact but was quickly back on his feet. He was even the first to apologize.

"Ouch… Oh! Oh, I'm really sorry!"

"Uh, no, yeah, 's no big." Alfred assured him, smiling a little. "My fault for stopping in the middle of the road."

"Oh."

"ALL ABOARD!" a booming voice startled them both.

"Oh! Oh no! I'm going to be late!"

Without a backward glance, the man with coffee-colored hair ran to the docks and got on the nearest ship. Alfred followed him with his gaze and turned to resume his trek when another person caught his eye.

A man with blond locks reaching his shoulders, standing on the deck of the ship the other guy boarded just a few seconds ago.

"MATTHEW!"

Excited, and grinning from ear to ear, Alfred hurried toward the ship. Other people impeded his progress though, and soon he saw that the ship was raising anchor.

"NO! WAIT! WAIT!"

"Is there a problem, mate?"

"My brother's on this ship! You have to let me—"

"Nah, an excuse as old as time. Off she goes boys!"

"WAIT! I have a pass!"

"Oh? Well, why didn't ya say so earlier?"

Alfred struggled with his rucksack to get the important papers, glancing now and then at the ship slowly inching away from the harbor. The porter didn't even tell the crew to halt her advance.

"Here!" he shouted, very nearly shoving the documents in the porter's face. _Come on!_

The man nodded once upon seeing the papers. He didn't even look like he knew how to read.

"Part of the navy, are ya? Off you go then, ship's leavin'."

Alfred rolled his eyes, annoyed, and finally boarded the ship. Upon reaching the deck, he exhaled noisily, relieved that he was finally on his way. He instantly spotted the brown-haired man from before only standing only a few feet from him. He was talking to—

"MATTIE!" Alfred ran.

He started babbling the moment he reached the two men.

"Mattie I'm so sorry I'm a jerk and pigheaded and want to be a hero all the time but hey, if I weren't then I'd be your twin but still! I'm sorry for not hearing you out when you need me to; I know you were just worried but—Goddammit I thought you've left me behind!" he finished, catching his breath.

Matthew was yet to look at him.

"Mattie—" he said, placing a hand on the other's shoulder.

The blond man turned to face him.

And Alfred's jaw dropped.

"Shit."

The man looked unimpressed and raised a fine brow before speaking.

"Hey, that's, like, _so_ totally rude you know."


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

"My names' Feliks Lucasiewicz and this is, like, the best friend I've ever had, Toris Lorinaitis."

"I'm Alfred F. Jones…uh, sorry for what happened earlier."

"Don't worry, it's cool." Feliks beamed.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Jones." Toris said.

"Ah! Just call me Alfred."

"Oh. Okay Alfred."

The blond navy officer learned that his two newfound friends were from Puola, a village somewhere in the northeast of the Old World mainland. Toris is a healer-in-training and Feliks breeds horses for a living.

"I dream of having pink ponies you know! Like, pink is _so _totally a cool color!" the blond had stated.

The day hasn't even ended yet the three were already inseparable. They ate their meals together and spent hours sharing stories about themselves. Alfred and Feliks took turns comforting the perpetually seasick Toris, rubbing his back gently whenever he doubles over. Alfred momentarily forgot his initial dilemma, enjoying his time with the pair. He grew closer to Toris though (he didn't know it was because the brown-haired man bore a resemblance to Matthew in behavior) since Feliks sometimes plainly weirded him out. There was too much eccentricity in that small body (Alfred mentally bashed himself for his earlier mistake: Matthew was way taller than Feliks) that he couldn't help but drown in it.

On the first night of their journey, Alfred was reminded of his mission.

"Hey, you're part of the navy, right?" Feliks asked. Beside him, Toris was sleeping, curled up in his cot.

"Yeah." answered Alfred.

"So does that mean you're hunting this guy?"

The smaller blond then showed him a wanted poster just like what Gilbert had, a poster of the pirate Arthur Kirkland.

"Uhm, yeah… SHIT!"

"Huh? What?"

"Do you know where this ship is going? I'm supposed to transfer to a warship on the Tyrrhenian Sea!"

Feliks scratched his head. "We're going west. So, that's like, the opposite direction of your sea."

"Damn!"

"But you said you live in Columbia, so basically, you're going home. You can, like, contact your colleagues from there or something, right?"

"I can't contact them!" Alfred exclaimed. "They're at sea and they're chasing that pirate and it will be _months_ before they're back! And I don't even know _where_ they're going after getting him!"

"Okay, okay, I get it; you're in trouble. No need to, like, get hysterical. You're showering me with spit."

The blue-eyed man reddened. Trust Feliks to be so straightforward.

Alfred sighed bitterly while his companion regarded the poster.

"Do you think he's really what the rumors describe him to be?"

"Huh?"

The Puolan native gave him a look. "People say this and that, but do you think this pirate's that powerful?"

"Someone told me he's got magic, but I don't believe it." Alfred replied simply.

"Hmm…_cool_."

"What?"

"I said _'cool'_, Alfred. If he's this popular, and this handsome, and he has magic, he's _cool_." Feliks said.

"He's not. He's dangerous."

Alfred and Feliks turned to see Toris looking back at them. He had shifted on his cot when he spoke, and the ship's lanterns cast shadows upon his face so that he looked grim as he gave them a warning.

"Rumor has it that he has connections with the fae, unworldly beings that play tricks on humans. They say he may even be a child of the Netherworld, and he has come to our world to be king of it and destroy it one day; with the powers he possesses that can command even Mother Nature."

"Wow. That's an original! I'll give it an eight out of ten."

"Feliks!"

"Don't tell me you believe that, Toris. It's like, a totally nice story, but it's just that: a story."

"I'm with you on that, Feliks! I mean, come on! Does this guy look like he's going to be king of the world one day?" Alfred pointed to the poster.

"No, he looks like a pervert. A _handsome_ pervert at that." Feliks chuckled.

"Yeah! He looks like he's one of those people who'd run around naked with only a rose covering his privates!"

"You shouldn't insult him like that!" Toris cried out, throwing the covers off him and jumping to his feet. "If what I know of the fae is true, they're everywhere! We cannot see them but they can hear us! They'd have him sink our ship in an instant!"

"Come on, Toris—"

"Feliks, have you heard of what happened to his victims before their ships went down?"

"No, and I don't care, it's not true."

"These ships were covered in _ice_. First, the sea will be quiet and calm; an eerie silence. Then, some mysterious mist will swallow the whole ship. After that, it will be so cold that the people will freeze to _death_. That's one of his abilities: he can summon ice and snow."

Alfred huffed. "Toris—"

Then, they heard it: a low, unnatural moan that sent chills up their spines.

Nobody spoke for a moment. The three men looked around to see what could have possibly emitted the sound but found none; the other passengers were fast asleep. Some were snoring, yes, but the resonance they heard previously couldn't have been made by a human being.

Almost simultaneously, they all rubbed their arms.

"It's cold." Alfred said.

"_He's here! He heard you talking about him!"_ Toris screeched, his eyes wide with fear.

Feliks rolled his eyes. "It's probably just a storm, Toris."

The small blond man was partially right. They could hear the rain pounding against the ship's hull. But the temperature seemed to drop even extraordinarily lower just to prove him wrong. They could see their breaths coming out in clouds and they all started shuddering. Some of the other passengers woke up too, too cold to fall back to sleep.

"What's happening?" some of them asked.

They could hear movement on the upper deck; rumbling footsteps against the shriek of the winds and rain and the groan of the wood as the ship moved with the sea.

Everyone jumped when the hatch above the stairway opened suddenly and a drenched sailor came through. He had a wild look upon his face.

"PIRATES! PIRATES ABOARD THE SHIP!" he screamed.

"Now, now, go easy, _monsieur_. We don't want them dying of cardiac arrest, do we?" a voice chided before the passengers could react.

The sentence was followed by a gentle click and more footsteps as another man came into view. He held a gun against the sailor's head and he maneuvered him with it, silently ordering him to walk forward.

Nobody dared move a muscle as the pair moved into the light of the lanterns.

"Now, let's see. Who among you is a healer?"

The crowd gasped as one.

The feared Arthur Kirkland stood in their midst.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

"Well?" the pirate said when nobody answered him.

The group of people before him only looked at him, some angry and defiant, some scared and shivering. No one said a word.

Impatient, the man who held the gun sighed. "Now, see here, I don't have that much time."

"Time you'll gladly spend in robbing citizens blind I suppose!" a male passenger finally yelled.

"Yeah! Rot in hell, sea-wolf!" another seconded.

"Yeah you bast—"

**"I DON'T SEE ANY OF YOU HOLDING A DEADLY WEAPON, DO I? OR DO YOU WANT TO WATCH WHILE I SHOOT THIS MAN'S BRAINS OUT?"**

The blond pirate's shout rang through the air and silenced the crowd. He had grabbed the sailor by the neck and applied more pressure on the gun against the man's head.

"I shall ask again. Is there a healer among you?"

"Yes! He's a healer!"

All heads turned to see who had spoken. It was Alfred, and he was pointing to Toris.

"What are you doing?" Feliks screeched at him.

The blue-eyed man then pushed his brown-haired friend to the front. Feliks had instinctively grabbed Toris's arm but Alfred simply pried his hand away.

"TORIS!"

"Alfred!" Toris screamed, panicking.

To his surprise, Alfred not only forced him forward, but followed him until they were a few feet away from the pirate and his hostage.

"Excellent!" the bandit pronounced. "Up you go then, _monsieur_. And _you_, thank you for your service, you can go back now."

"I didn't do it for you." Alfred hissed. "I'm just making sure you don't hurt anyone."

"Oh, how heroic! Sadly, all I need is the healer, so I suppose you have no choice but to return?"

"No! I'm an officer of the Columbian Navy and I will escort Mr. Lorinaitis here until he's done with what you want him to do!"

Alfred's heart hammered against his chest. He fervently prayed that the other man won't notice his nervousness and that his plan would work out.

The pirate merely smiled. "Columbian Navy, you say? Hmm… He won't be too happy about that, but well, he hasn't been happy about anything for a long time…"

"What?"

"None of your business! But I think, Mr. Officer, that you are not in any position to bargain." The bandit then waved his gun mockingly.

"Please! Let him come with me! Let's just…get this over with."

The two blonds looked at Toris at the same time.

"_Merde_. Fine. Just because you're cute."

Alfred's jaw dropped at that while Toris blushed, perplexed.

"The two of you first then, Mr. Officer."

They went up the stairs and into the harsh weather; Toris and Alfred leading the way and the sailor and the pirate behind them. The cascading rain and substantial mist made it hard for them to see anything past five feet ahead, but Alfred made out the figures of the ship captain and his crew tied to the main mast. A few people, pirates obviously, stood guard beside them.

"Who needs my help?" Toris shouted against the wind. It was raining so hard that they can barely hear him.

"He's on the other ship!" the blond pirate answered. He pushed his hostage away, who was caught by one of the other men, and motioned to grab the brown-haired man from Alfred.

Alfred took this as his chance. With a swift kick, he sent the man's gun flying from his hand and into the sea. The pirate could only mumble a confused "What—?" before Alfred was on him, shoving him down the wet floor.

"TORIS! RUN!" he yelled, blinking away the rain from his eyes as he pinned the blond pirate down. But Toris had already been caught by another bandit, and he struggled weakly against the man's hold. The other pirates started closing in on Alfred.

"DON'T MOVE OR I'LL BREAK HIS NECK!" the blue-eyed man shouted wildly. He hauled himself up, clamped his forearm around his hostage's neck, and pulled a little. It produced the desired effect: the other men stopped their advance.

The pirate choked against his hold. "_Mer_…_de_…Let go…of…me…you…"

"SHUT UP!" Alfred screamed into his ear. He was panicking inside; he hadn't thought much about the pirate's companions earlier when he created his plan.

"Release the captain, his crew, and my friend, leave this ship, and I will not kill _your_ captain!"

There was a variety of reactions to Alfred's statement; some of the men looked at each other, confused, and some of them chuckled.

"What? You want your captain dead? Sure! I'll gladly—"

His threat was cut short by a knife whizzing past his head and cutting a clean line across his right cheek, right below his eye. He turned around to see the weapon embed itself on one of the masts.

"He is not our captain, but if you do not unhand him this instant, the next knife will pierce your right eye."

The voice belonged to a woman. Alfred searched for the source of the sound, briefly wondering when the rain had stopped. The threat was issued to him in a small but very intimidating voice, one that could only be heard without the steady thrum of rain.

Sure enough, the rain had cleared and the winds had calmed, but the skies were yet to brighten up.

The speaker turned out to be a figure clad in a blue cloak. She stood behind the men, her hood hiding her face.

"Will you unhand him? Or should I make good on my promise?" she asked.

Alfred's heart sank as he realized he had no choice but to let go.

Once released, the blond pirate turned around and delivered the lieutenant a punch.

"Mr. Bonnefoy! That is enough!" the woman scolded. "The healer is top priority!"

"Alfred!" Toris shouted when the bandits made to transfer with him to the waiting ship.

"Toris! No!"

Alfred ran and grabbed the nearest pirate by the arm, who happened to be a huge, dark man with braided hair.

"_Mon Dieu!_ Just throw him overboard, Alejandro!"

The pirate named Alejandro complied, clutching Alfred by the collar and tossing him. The blue-eyed man landed on the other ship's deck with a sickly _thud!_. The surface was harder than wood.

"_**'OVERBOARD'**_**, ALEJANDRO! NOT **_**'ON BOARD'**_**, IMBÉCILE!**" the blond pirate screeched, gesturing wildly with his arms.

"Nevermind, Mr. Bonnefoy. He is a navy officer, is he not? I'm sure the captain will be able to force some valuable information out of him." said the cloaked woman.

Once all of them had moved to the new ship, Alfred's hands were tied behind his back. Toris's hands remained free, but just like Alfred, he was flanked by two pirates as they walked towards the inside of the vessel. Their footsteps resounded against the iron walls.

Gilbert had been right about the infamous pirate ship being made out of iron, but he was wrong about the pirate captain's identity.

Alfred's stomach churned at the thought. The posters would have been spread throughout all the continents now, and they bore the wrong picture.

They reached an iron door and the man who the woman called Mr. Bonnefoy raised a hand to knock upon it. Before he could, however, a shout echoed behind them.

**"SIR! THE PASSENGER SHIP HAS RAISED ANCHOR AND LOOSENED SAILS! SHE IS ESCAPING, SIR!"**

Alfred inhaled sharply and stiffened.

Toris's heart stopped. He fell to his knees.

"No…" the brown-haired man moaned.

"You can chase after her, can't you?" Alfred yelled.

"_Non, non, non_. That simply cannot be done. As I've told you, we don't have much time and we actually don't care—"

"JUST FOLLOW HER! Toris has a—"

"You impose too much, mister." the woman said.

"HE'S GOT A FRIEND BACK THERE!" Alfred argued.

"As I've said, we don't—"

**"HE'S NOT MY FRIEND!"**

Toris's shout overwhelmed the rest. He remained on his knees, crying; his shoulders heaved with each sob.

"Feliks…is not my friend."

"Huh? But I thought—"

The brown-haired man silenced Alfred by raising his left hand. He wore a golden band around his ring finger.

"We're…_**married**_." Toris choked as tears ran down his cheeks.

The iron door swung open.

**"IF I DON'T GET A BLOODY DECENT EXPLANATION AS TO WHY I WAS ROUSED FROM MY SLEEP BY YOU MONKEYS SCREAMING YOUR LUNGS OUT, I SWEAR I AM GOING TO BLOODY TORTURE YOU ALL TO DEATH SO SLOWLY YOU'LL WISH YOU HAVE NEVER BEEN BORN!"**


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

The man who stood before them wore a brilliant red coat, a white ruffled shirt underneath, black trousers, knee-high boots, an eye patch over his right eye, and a look on his face that rivaled a truly angered bull's. His thick eyebrows were so closely knit in fury that they almost made a single line, and his only visible emerald eye screamed bloody murder.

He is the captain of the mysterious ironclad ship.

He was the man Alfred had 'rescued' back in Hellas's Tavern.

Alfred's eyes widened.

"YOU!"

"_Excusez-moi_—"

"I do not speak Frog! Explain to me why there are people who do not understand instructions still breathing in front of me! Or have you all come here to give me the pleasure of wringing your necks personally?"

The only woman among them stepped forward. "Captain—"

"ARTHUR KIRKLAND?"

"And why do I have strangers on my ship?"

"We've brought a healer for you."

"A healer? Where from?"

"From a passenger ship we've just encountered—"

"YOU'RE ARTHUR KIRKLAND?"

"Did you just tell me that you took command of the ship without my permission, frog?"

"_Oui~_ That's what first mates are for~"

**"YOU'RE ARTHUR FUCKING KIRKLAND?"**

"SOMEBODY GAG THAT LOUD BASTARD BEFORE I CUT OFF HIS TONGUE OR SOMEBODY'S USELESS HANDS!"

The order was immediately obeyed. A foul-smelling rag was wrapped around Alfred's head, covering his mouth. He struggled and twisted and shook his head to dislodge the offending cloth, but it was knotted tight at his nape. Nobody spoke as the navy lieutenant was secured, but Toris's sobs and the pirate captain's heavy breathing as he tried to calm down filled their ears.

"Good. Now that we don't have a bloody _siren_ busting our eardrums…_You_," the captain pointed to Mr. Bonnefoy, "…have a lot to explain. Natalya, get me something to drink."

The woman, who had taken her hood off and who Alfred quickly identified as the same woman from the tavern, bowed her head at the order. She made her way into the room in front of them. The captain moved to the side to give her some space and let her in.

"Tea." Toris said weakly, still slumped on his knees on the floor.

Natalya paused.

"Pardon?" asked the captain.

"Tea is good if you want to relax."

_**"I know."**_ the captain answered, rolling his eyes. "Now, Alejandro, Mikhail, throw that annoying scumbag into the brig and make sure he stays _quiet_. The rest, follow me."

"Ah! _Monsieur Capitaine_—"

"Do I have to sock you in the mouth—?"

"—he says he is the healer's escort. So I think he would want to stay to ensure his friend's safety?" the ship's first mate looked to Alfred questioningly.

The gagged blond nodded his head vigorously. The two men holding him waited for the final orders.

The pirate captain thought it over for a few minutes.

Then he said, "I don't see the point of it. Go."

-

To say that he was miserable was an understatement.

He was hungry and tired, got separated from his half-brother, drenched in the rain, sucker punched by a perverted-looking pirate, and now he was stuck in a cold iron cage inside a pirate ship without food. With his luck, he may have gotten his new friend tortured to death while he rotted away in this place, or worse, he and Toris may be able to live through this but not without the brown-haired man hating him for eternity.

Nobody had told him Toris and Feliks were _lovers_. Married lovers at that.

Alfred groaned as he banged his head on the wall for the nth time. He decided not to dwell on the fact that he may have had incurred the wrath of the only ally he had at the moment. He tried to think of something else.

Pirates were huge thorns in every country's side, and as an officer of the famous navy of the country of Columbia, it was his job to make sure these heathens stop doing what they're doing. If pirates were created to rob and pillage and plunder, navy men were destined to make sure these bandits were hanged.

Alfred had no problem seeing Arthur Kirkland and his crew dead and hanging by their broken necks in a town plaza. But he had problems placing himself in the gory picture. Will he be standing beside fellow officers, perhaps with a new medal pinned to his chest? Or will he already be long dead, decaying somewhere in the deep blue sea, by the time these outlaws were caught?

He sure is in pretty deep shit this time.

His stomach grumbled as if in agreement.

No! Food is so not a cool topic right now.

So many things have happened in such a short amount of time that he found himself dizzy with the realization. Sure, he had always loved adventure, always loved the rush of adrenaline in his veins. But those had been the times when he was sure he was in control, not when his life depended on the whim of the man he was supposed to detain. He will always be labeled as a reckless young man by others, but that was not entirely true. He just had a weird, overpowering sense of justice. He knew he had a stroke of genius in him; combined with his physical strength and determination, he landed himself a place in the navy.

Now, if only he can tap on both that genius _and_ that strength, maybe he can find a way out of that wretched place and have the chance to turn the tables.

His train of thought was cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps.

The door to his prison opened.

"The Cap'n wants to see you." said Alejandro as he hauled Alfred to his feet.

The blond lieutenant knew he can bring the brown man down if he wanted to, but he didn't risk it. There was no point if he was in a ship full of pirates. But if he can take the _real_ captain hostage…maybe he had a chance.

-

**"IT WAS YOU!"**

Chaos ensued the minute Alfred's gag was off.

"YOU?" the pirate captain shouted back.

"You know each other, _Capitaine_—?"

"I remember now. He was the meddling fool—"

"Yes, Natalya! How could you have not noticed?"

"AND YOU!" Alfred screamed at the woman.

"He's the stupid meddlesome git!"

"You were going to get killed, in case you've forgotten! Man, now I regret jumping in to save you!"

"Ooh~ _Monsieur Capitaine_'s hero? Pleased to meet you, I am Francis Bonnefoy—"

"I was ready to kill _HIM_, you idiot!"

"Not! You were choking to death! SHIT! AND YOU'RE ARTHUR KIRKLAND!"

"YES, I AM ARTHUR KIRKLAND! THAT ONLY PROVES YOUR NAVY IS COMPRISED OF AIRHEADED BUFFOONS IF YOU ALL THOUGHT _HE_ WAS ME!"

"Eh? _Moi?_"

"Posters of you were dispersed all throughout the continent, Mr. Bonnefoy."

"**FUUUUUUUUCK!** How will I tell Gil and Matt?"

"_Je ne comprends pas_—"

"THIS is what we're talking about!"

Arthur pulled out a piece of paper from a bureau drawer and slapped it onto his desk. Francis stepped forward. He saw himself smiling back at him, albeit with several holes marring the face on the paper. The name 'Arthur Kirkland' was printed right below the picture.

"My beautiful face! Arthur what have you done?" the first mate picked up the dilapidated poster. "Wait… YOU KNEW BUT YOU DIDN'T TELL ME!"

"The matter was taken care of." The captain smirked at him cheekily, motioning to the notice. "My throwing skills needed practice."

Francis glared through one of the paper's holes. "_ROSBIF!_ You find THIS funny?"

"If the navy men killed you, thinking you were him, the captain would be free to roam the seas."

"Natalya! How cruel! You wound big brother's heart!"

"You are not my big brother. My big brother is dea—"

"IT DOESN'T MATTER! YOU'LL ALL GO DOWN!"

All the room's occupants stared at Alfred, who glowered back at them.

"You pirates… You're all GARBAGE! You poke fun at people by stealing their hard-earned fortune! You pride yourselves in stepping on other people's backs—"

"Oh, and don't forget. We also _kill_."

The navy officer didn't bat an eye at the gun pressed to his forehead.

"People like you…_disgust me_." Alfred finished.

"The feeling is mutual." Arthur replied coolly. But his countenance changed as he spoke his next words. "Do not ever assume that you know all there is to know about us. You might be surprised at how _pirates_, as you say it, are not so different from the government you look up to and oh so admire."

Blue eyes stared back at him defiantly. "You love your control over the weak. You're only brave when you have a gun pointed to people with hands tied behind their backs."

The captain visibly reddened with anger.

"Really? Then. Try. Me." he hissed.

Alfred knew this was his last chance. Arthur Kirkland had taken the bait.

The gun had barely touched the wooden surface of the desk when the lieutenant moved. He sprang into action and slammed a shoulder into the captain's jaw. Arthur stumbled backwards onto the table behind him. His hand immediately shot up to grab the gun, but the impact had sent the weapon flying to the floor. Alfred made to smash his chest this time, but the pirate rolled away to safety before elbowing the blue-eyed man's side. Francis made a move to join the fight.

"STAY BACK FROG!"

Alfred saw this as an opportunity and kicked Arthur in the shin. The green-eyed man doubled over in pain but managed to pull his challenger by the shirt. With all the strength he could muster, he shoved Alfred against a nearby door, knocking the lieutenant's head against the wood.

They fell to the floor when the door was pulled open.

Both men looked up to see a young man with dark hair standing near their heads. A large bat sat perched on his shoulder.

"Einion wanted to see you, Captain. And the healer says your medicine is ready. I'm sorry; I didn't know you were busy."

Alfred and Arthur both colored at that. They had only realized the compromising position they were in.

"No it's not—!"

"Get off!"

"Who are you to order me around, you wanke—"

"Just get off me!"

"Stop moving!"

"Get—"

"THERE! I'M UP, I'M UP!" Arthur shouted and kicked Alfred.

"OW! FUCK! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?"

"No reason. I just hate you, you bloody git." Once the pirate captain was back on his feet, the bat flew straight to him and nuzzled his hair. "And how are you, Einion?"

"I HATE YOU TOO, YOU CRAZY OLD MAN!"

"I AM NOT OLD, WANKER!"

"Captain, your medicine?"

"Ah, yes Hong. I'll be there in a jiffy. Frog! Make sure this git's not here when I return!"

"Finally, you remembered we're still here~! What shall I do to him?" Francis asked after pulling the navy officer by the feet so that he will not be in the way of the door.

"Lock him up and keep him gagged!"

"Aye, aye, _capitaine_."

The door was slammed shut and Alfred found himself being scrutinized by both Francis and Natalya.

"What do you think, _Mademoiselle_ Natalya? Should we follow the captain's orders or should we do something else?"

"Do something else."

"_Exactemente!_ You read my mind! Now, what position—"

"Let's kill him."


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

* * *

"You do realize that if you try to make it worse, you're never getting off this ship, don't you?"

Toris's hand nearly slipped upon hearing those words. He looked over his shoulder to see Arthur and Hong standing by the kitchen's doorway. He had been too busy lamenting his fate that he had not noticed their arrival.

The brown-haired man swallowed and nodded once.

"Good." said Arthur. He walked to the table, pulled a chair, and sat down. Hong moved forward to stand beside him, with Einion settled on his shoulder once more. "What kind of medicine did you prepare?"

"Essence of moonwort." came the short reply.

"And what's it supposed to do?"

"It will soothe the inflammation."

"And?"

"Uhm…It will need to be administered once each day for three days straight. By then, your eye would have healed completely."

"Alright then. You may begin."

They worked in silence. Arthur removed the black patch covering his inflamed eye so Toris can administer the moonwort essence in small, careful drops while Hong looked on, everyone not saying a word. The pirate captain could have sighed in relief as the liquid touched his sore eye; it gave a cool sensation that instantly chased away the unforgiving itch. The healer then reached for a small roll of gauze and methodically wrapped the half of Arthur's face with it.

"Is this really necessary?" asked the green-eyed man.

"Yes. This way, your eye will stay clean as it heals." Toris answered.

"There is that black—"

"It doesn't serve its purpose as well as this cloth does."

"Fine." Arthur huffed. He had a feeling a certain frog might make fun of his current appearance but shrugged it off. He can always punch the laughter off of Francis's face anyway.

* * *

It turned out that Arthur didn't have to worry about Francis laughing at him. He returned to his quarters accompanied by Toris to be greeted by a loud exclamation of "WHOA! DUDE, YOU LOOK LIKE A MUMMY!"

"Alfred?!"

The stupid meddling navy git was still there.

"_Mon ami_, what happened to your face? I thought you were going to have your eye healed—"

"WHY IS THAT GIT STILL HERE, FROG?!"

"Oh~ Well, we decided to have some fun while you were away—"

"AHAHAHAHAHAHA! YOU LOOK FUNNY!" Alfred's hands were still tied behind his back and his forehead thumped against the floor as he curled up to laugh. "Hey, wait, I just made a rhyme!"

Arthur seemed to convulse violently at that. He was torn between glaring at Francis and silently willing him to burst in flames and strangling the blond navy lieutenant to death.

The brown-haired man behind him, meanwhile, wanted nothing but to shrink in fear and embarrassment.

"And you took the liberty… to have some of **_my_** rum, didn't you?" he asked, seething.

"Oh, _non non_. We had nothing of that boorish drink of yours. We drank some of the finest wine from the stock room." Francis explained. "I had Natalya bring some more…hmm…I wonder why she hasn't come back yet."

"…FROG—"

"HEY TORIS, LOOK! IT'S A BAT!" shouted Alfred, pointing to the small creature on Arthur's shoulder.

"EINION'S A DRAGON, YOU FUCKING MORON!"

Said dragon cawed as if it knew they were talking about it.

"Whoa…so it's not true that you can turn into a dragon and spit flames or something?"

"Eh? Our _Capitaine_?"

"THAT IS UTTER BOLLOCKS!"

"HAHA! WE TOLD YA TORIS!"

The healer flinched at being dragged into the 'conversation'.

"What is that nonsense?!" Arthur turned to question the brown-haired man.

If Toris didn't feel terror earlier in the kitchen, he did now.

"Uh-uhm… P-people have been saying that you… were a child of the N-Netherworld and blessed with magic a-and stuff."

"What?!"

"THEY SAY YOU CAN TURN INTO A DRAGON!" cackled Alfred.

"RUBBISH! AND YOUR STUPID NAVY BELIEVES THAT?!"

"Oho~ Your reputation precedes you, _Capitaine_. Sadly, it is anything but the truth. Scrawny Arthur, turning into a powerful beast—"

"SHUT IT FROG!"

"B-but what about the merchant ships covered in ice?!" Toris frantically asked. "Everyone knows you did it!"

"I did no such thing—"

"HE'S ALL FLESH AND BONE, TORIS! HE'S JUST AS HUMAN AS THE NEXT PERSON! HE COULDN'T HAVE DONE ALL THAT!" Alfred said with a somewhat triumphant smile on his face. Apparently, he was very loud when drunk.

Arthur itched to beat that annoying smile off of the blue-eyed man's face. He longed to silence him with a swing of his fist. But, fine, he was going to give them answers before that. Maybe he can ask him to just freeze the loud git and his friend into two chunks of ice so that he can toss them out into the sea easily.

As his two uninvited guests argued with Francis, he walked to a cabinet with Einion circling his head. He pulled out a jar big enough to fit a man's head in and set it on his desk with a loud _bang!_.

His three human companions hushed when they saw the lidded but empty jar.

"What's that?" asked Alfred.

The green-eyed pirate leveled him a look.

"You are correct; I am just as human as you are an idiot. I am not the cause of the frozen ships…_He is_."

At his words, mist began to swirl inside the glass jar on the table, seeming to shape into a translucent, spherical form. When it stopped, all they could see was a pearly-white ball floating inside the container.

Then it spun around slowly.

And Alfred and Toris were greeted by a ghostly face.

"_Privyet_, comrades."

Alfred promptly blacked out.

* * *

The blond navy officer woke up inside a decent cabin with Toris to learn that he had spent half the day on his bed. Hunger and lack of sleep from when they had left the passenger ship had taken its toll on him, not to mention that he had a head-splitting migraine as the aftereffect of the wine from last night. (Toris corrected him that he had been drinking in the wee hours of the morning, not late at night.) He remembered all the details of the event in the captain's quarters though, and it made him paranoid that they were sailing with a ghost aboard. Worse, it was a ghost under the command of his worst enemy, Arthur Kirkland.

Rubbing his head, Alfred tried to recall what exactly made had him drink with a pirate. Ah, he had been trying to get information from Francis Bonnefoy by trying to make him so drunk he'd forget he'd been saying things he shouldn't say. The plan backfired when the first mate left his hands shackled. Thus, the pirate had full control of what Alfred drank. (And Alfred had to pretend he was really drunk too so he can easily maneuver out of Francis's unwanted touch.)  
He did not come out entirely defeated though.

Francis had told him (unwittingly or not, he wasn't sure; the pervert seemed to take joy in embarrassing his captain) about Arthur's reason for ravaging the seas.

_"He seeks many, many things: gold, jewels, treasure that he can send home so his older brothers will be free of debt and out of prison; fame, from being able to elude all those who are after his head; and something else I don't know that I can only see a sliver of in his eyes."_

Alfred grinned. There it was, the challenge he had been waiting for. If all goes well this time (and if the pirate captain doesn't set the horrid ghost on him first), he will have robbed Arthur of the things he so desperately sought.

But first, it was time for his brown-haired healer friend to leave the pirate ship.

* * *

Alfred didn't know if he should laugh at how stupid the pirates were or admire them for their confidence. They did not even bother locking the door to the cabin that he and Toris shared. Toris told him that it was useless anyway; they wouldn't be able to get past the ship's crew, locked door or not. The blue-eyed man had just grinned at him.

He stepped outside to the night sky, the cold breeze, and the full moon light.

And, if what his gut instinct was telling him, a short knife pressed to his side, only a few inches shy of stabbing his kidney.

"Good. I was getting tired of thinking about how to kill you without your friend noticing."

Natalya.

He jumped back just as the girl made to thrust with her knife.

"Just what is your problem?!" he shouted. "I thought you guys were going to keep me alive for interrogation or something!"

Natalya slid to the floor and tripped Alfred with her leg. The man fell backwards and narrowly avoided getting hacked by picking up a piece of wood and using it to shield his face. The knife sliced through the wood halfway and got stuck.

"You occupy too much of the captain's mind."

"Yeah, he must be sleepless 'cause of my handsome face. COME ON! YOU'RE JEALOUS?! I bet he's thinking of how to get rid of me as messily as possible!"

Alfred pushed the woman off of him and immediately got to his feet.

"Then I'll spare him the trouble." Natalya said coldly and attacked him again. Just where do those knives come from?

Alfred quickly threw away his sense of justice and decided to fight back even if it was against a woman. He leapt to the right to dodge flying knives and ran forward. Natalya reached behind her, possibly to get another knife or two, but she was too late. The blue-eyed man slammed against her and sent both of them tumbling to the floor.

"Drop it!" Alfred hissed. He held the woman's wrist in one hand and her throat in the other. Natalya fisted a knife in one of hers.

"I said drop the knife!"

The silver-haired woman only glared at him furiously, keeping her mouth shut and refusing to acknowledge she was choking. She was still fighting his hold.

The navy officer loosened his grip on her airway but pressed hard against her wrist, making sure to cut the blood flow in her hand.

Natalya opened her mouth; possibly to curse or spit at him, but never got the chance to do so.

A loud gunshot pierced the air.

"Bugger it all. **NATALYA!**"

Alfred recoiled as pain erupted in his left shoulder. The woman beneath him took this chance to throw him off of her. She stood up and moved to slice his throat but someone stopped her.

It was Arthur.

"So much for a warning shot. This eye is really fucking up my marksmanship." said the pirate captain.

"You should have aimed for his head, Captain." Natalya replied.

"Yes, and I wouldn't have missed it seeing it's big and so full of air."

The green-eyed man then proceeded to turn Alfred with his foot so that he's facing them.

"What made you think you can get away with killing one of my crew?"

"Fuck you." The blue-eyed man answered. It was hard to speak when he was gritting his teeth in pain. The bullet only grazed his shoulder, but it didn't mean it did not sting.

Arthur chuckled, his gun still aimed at Alfred's chest.

"If I were the frog, I would be answering _'Name the date and place~'_. But seeing as I am me, I demand an answer as to why you are not cooped up in your cabin like the obedient dog you are."

"I think he was planning an escape with the healer, Captain."

Shit.

If Arthur caught on in his foiled escape plan, Toris will have no chance. The gears in Alfred's head whirred rapidly in an attempt to turn the situation to his favor.

"NO!" Alfred shouted. "No… I was… I was on my way… to… to bargain with you."

"Really? But you see, you are a prisoner here and therefore you have no—"

**"LISTEN TO ME FIRST!"**

"Alright, then. Talk."

"I…know where all the… Columbian Navy's warships are stationed." panted the blond on the floor, trying to ignore the searing pain from the bullet wound. "You don't want…to run into…them, do you?"

The pirate captain stayed silent.

"Come on! I just…want you to…let Toris go—"

"I see. The healer's safety in exchange for the information then?"

"Y-yeah."

"What if you're lying? What if you're leading us to them instead of steering us to the other direction? I don't have any proof that you're saying the truth." the green-eyed man sneered.

Alfred froze. Damn it all to hell. This was his last card.

"You may…think that…I'm that…stupid…but…why the hell…would I want to…get myself…in the middle of the crossfire?!"

"I don't know. Maybe you're stupid enough to sacrifice yourself so your colleagues can capture me?"

The blond lieutenant's face heated up.

"I'm not! I just want—"

"—your friend out of here. Yes, I know that. But then that may only prove how selfish you are. You would willingly send Mr. Lorinaitis into the mercy of the wilds just so you can keep your arse unharmed with me thinking you are a valuable asset."

Alfred swallowed at those words. He started doubting his idea. Would he really be sending Toris to a quicker death instead of saving him?

"Fortunately for you, Hong has learned how to make the medicine I need from watching Mr. Lorinaitis work. And we have been running around in circles in trying to avoid other warships for the past few weeks and are quite tired of it." Arthur cut his thoughts. "I think I'll take you up on that offer. But, unlike you, I'll make sure Mr. Lorinaitis will be back on safe grounds. Not before patching you up though. I don't want your blood on my deck."

* * *

Dawn came.

Alfred realized there wasn't much to say when the time came for Toris to leave except offer an apology for everything that had happened.

"It's alright, Alfred." the brown-haired man assured him. "I know you only had the best intentions in mind."

"Yeah. But I guess the best intentions can't always give you the upper hand, right?"

The healer gave him a small smile.

"Are you sure—?"

"Yep. Don't worry, I'll live." It was the blue-eyed man's turn to give assurance.

"Okay." said Toris, but his eyes clearly doubted Alfred's words.

Silence followed as both struggled to say their goodbyes. They have been, after all, friends for only a short time.

"Say hi to Feliks for me. And tell him I'm sorry."

"I will. He doesn't hold grudges, you know."

"Oh, okay."

The pirates readied a boat and it turned out that Alejandro will row Toris to the nearest shore. It was an island called Madeira, also a popular stop for merchant ships. Hopefully, Toris will be able to get on a ship that will be sailing to where Feliks is.

"Good luck, Alfred." said the brown-haired man as he got on the smaller vessel.

"Thank you, Toris."

Alfred watched the boat float away, get smaller and smaller until it was only a tiny dot on the blue sea. Arthur did not dare come closer to the island, so they had to wait from a good distance for Alejandro to return.

"Where to now, Cap'n?" asked the dark-skinned pirate once he was back onboard.

Arthur took a brief, scouring glance at Alfred before answering.

"To the Tyrrhenian Sea."

* * *

**Author's Notes: **So sorry for the long wait _


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

* * *

A temporary truce had seemingly taken place onboard the Golden Queen; especially between Alfred and Arthur even though no words were spoken between them. Nobody tried to attack the Columbian Navy lieutenant after Natalya's attempt and he relished the nonviolent atmosphere, also silently promising not to do anything destructive. Yet.

Alfred found out that, setting all the stories about them aside, the pirates were actually normal people. The crew had force-fed him some kind of bread which looked like rocks and turned out to be scones made by Arthur himself. It was tradition that a new person onboard was forced to eat them so that everyone will have a nice laugh (except the captain who would make a sour face and curse them all to hell) at the following gastrointestinal struggle, usually indicated by vomiting by the side of the ship. They were disappointed though, when the navy lieutenant swallowed three whole scones without blinking and did not hurl afterwards. Everyone was so amazed that they did not notice the small smile on Arthur's face.

On his second night onboard, they invited Alfred in a small celebration of the captain's birthday in the kitchens. It was a night of drunken revelry and delicious food, something that greatly surprised the blue-eyed man. Both Francis and Hong cooked; their cuisine turned out to be both eye candies and mouth-watering. The celebrator, however, was cooped up in his cabin and had been refusing to come out ever since the force-feeding episode. Alfred then found the perfect excuse to exit the party and avoid Francis's blatant sexual harassment.

He walked to the captain's quarters with a jug of rum in hand. When he knocked, nobody answered, and when he pushed the door open, he found Arthur asleep with his head cradled by his arms on his desk. Different maps and papers littered the desk's surface. Alfred grinned. If he could only take a closer look at those documents, he'd have a higher chance of manipulating the pirate captain into the perfect trap.

He stepped forward and leaned to take a peek at the papers, saw the different colored lines Arthur had made on the maps. He was so close that he could almost smell peppermint in Arthur's breath. Shaking his head, he followed one line with his gaze and just when he was about to know the location the long arrow was pointing to—

"_I see someone snooping~"_

Alfred screamed.

"GAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

He stumbled backwards. The jug he held slipped from his fingers and he realized that the liquid spilled onto his pants. Right on his crotch. The horror of the realization, however, didn't come anywhere near the horror of hearing the childlike voice speak again; this time, in a singsong tone.

"_Little navy officer,_

_Came to place a bet;_

_He wants to kill the captain_

_But he wet his pants instead~"_

"S-S-S-SHUT UP! W-WHOEVER YOU ARE!" the blue-eyed man yelled.

Luckily, Arthur stayed asleep on the desk.

"_Look at him; so scared~"_ the voice chuckled.

Before Alfred could shout again, icy vapor erupted from a cabinet behind the desk and settled near his feet. The mist slowly crept upwards, forming legs, a torso, and finally a head. When the swirling stopped, Alfred could see a translucent man towering over him. It took all his willpower not to faint again.

"_Privyet_, Alfred F. Jones. I am Ivan Braginski, resident spirit of the _Golden Queen_." the translucent man greeted.

The navy officer only gaped at him like a dying fish.

"I am here to warn you: human, beast, or undead, someone is yet to hinder me from protecting Captain Kirkland at all costs. So you will stop plotting his demise, _da_?"

Shit. It was so unfair that the pirate had a freaking ghost as a protector.

"I-I-I…I'M NOT AFRAID OF YOU, GHOST!" Alfred screeched, and promptly threw the nearest object at Ivan: the empty jug of rum.

As expected, it sailed right through the spirit.

"HE'LL BE HANGED SOON! AND IT WILL BE BECAUSE OF ME! I'LL—"

"**WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK?!"**

Alfred's head whipped around and he saw Arthur already standing by the desk. The green-eyed man was holding his head in pain.

"Arthur?!"

"YOU?!"

"Him!" Alfred stood up too and pointed, but the space Ivan had occupied was already empty.

"WHAT THE BLAZES ARE YOU PLAYING AT?! AND HOW DID YOU GET IN?! AND WHY—"Arthur's rant was cut short when his gaze went lower.

Alfred, realizing it, instinctively covered his crotch with his hands.

They both went red.

"I—"

"You—"

"Uhm—"

"_Ahem_—**GET THE HELL OUT OF MY OFFICE, GIT!**"

The blue-eyed man ran away as fast as he can, ducking to dodge the lantern thrown at his head.

* * *

His dream was a whirlwind of images.

There was ice and snow and long, silvery hair suddenly catching fire and turning short, auburn red. He followed the hair with his gaze; auburn red that reached only the shoulders of a woman whose back was turned to him. The lady shifted to face him but his mind could not register her features, only her eyes were important. Emerald-green eyes that could see right through his soul and when he stepped back in fear, the person facing him was Arthur. His green eyes looked ahead blankly and his face was that of a soulless man. Fire burst from beneath the pirate's feet and Alfred could only watch in morbid awe as the flames licked at the man before swallowing him completely.

A deafening explosion jolted Alfred into consciousness.

There was some kind of commotion outside his cabin and when he threw open his door, he was greeted by the view of the pirate crew scuffling in different directions.

"CAP'N! IT'S THE _KONSTANZE_!" somebody shouted. "AND SHE HAS TWO OTHER GUNBOATS WITH HER!"

"TELL ME THEIR BLOODY LOCATION!" Arthur's voice answered.

It turned out that nobody needed to, for as soon as he had spoken, another earsplitting crash rocked the ironclad ship. Everyone aboard was sent tumbling to his knees. A huge warship loomed before them by the starboard side in no time, followed by two smaller but decidedly not weaker vessels, their cannons smoking.

He made it.

Alfred had managed to make the Golden Queen rendezvous with the Konstanze naively. Arthur Kirkland and his crew were trapped.

"That bloody…**JONES!**"

The navy officer looked up to see Arthur glaring daggers at him from an open upper deck.

Alfred gave him a sneer.

"YOU WILL REGRET THIS, YOU TOSSER!" the green-eyed man shouted but did not advance towards him. Instead, he focused on barking orders at his panicking crew, long strings of curses running out of his mouth.

"PREPARE THE BLOODY CANNONS! WE'LL FIGHT BACK! NO, WE'RE NOT GOING TO FUCKING RUN, MIKHAIL! FRANCIS—!"

"Oh, you must feel so betrayed and so angry to call me by my name—"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP! I SAID READY THE GUNS!"

But the enemy's three ships were closing in fast, firing at them repeatedly, mercilessly. Alfred was awed at how the navy's ammunition just slid off the pirate ship's hull, unable to penetrate it like it usually does if the hull was made of timber. The cannon balls left dents though, and each impact reverberated three times more painfully in the ears.

Now, if only he can make the Konstanze's crew see him before they fire too high and accidentally break his bones with the shells.

His injured shoulder was suddenly gripped firmly, causing him to wince. He was roughly forced to turn around and a huge fist made contact with his jaw. He was sent sprawling to the ground.

"DON'T TOUCH HIM! HE'S MINE!"

Alfred opened one eye to see Alejandro stepping back, away from him at Arthur's orders. The pirate captain then ran towards them.

"Man the guns! Didn't you hear me the first time?! I'll personally take care of this one." Arthur promised menacingly, each word laced with venom, and the other pirate obeyed, leaving the two of them.

The blue-eyed man will never admit that he was slightly relieved, but when Arthur pulled a sword from a sheath hanging by his belt, he reacted in panic. He tried to pull himself up but the green-eyed man stomped a foot on his hurt shoulder. Alfred let out a small scream of pain.

"You _**will **_regret the very moment you started planning this, .bastard." the pirate hissed.

Arthur leaned forward and added more weight onto his leg. His victim gritted his teeth, but forced his eyes open to meet him eye to eye.

"Y-you're…the…bastard…_Kirkland_…" Alfred was able to say. "And you're…all…going to…die."

He could see pure rage fill those emerald eyes and then pain shot up his head as he was pulled up by the hair. The sword was pressed against his neck, and the shorter man whispered one last time into his ear.

"Yes, but I'm afraid you will have to wait longer for that. **In hell**."

But the pain of having his throat sliced open never came.

Something white and blue rammed into Arthur and sent him flying backwards just before a burst of white-hot flames flew from the right. Alfred felt his body burn as the fiery blaze passed him by; he had avoided being incarcerated just by mere inches. Arthur, on the other hand, would have been fried to death if it weren't for his savior who turned out to be Natalya.

A huge shadow wove in and out of the pirate ship's deck and for a moment, Alfred wondered what it was. Then, the shadow multiplied by two, and he realized that something must be flying overhead.

The blue-eyed man craned his head and looked up to see…

"**DRAGONS!" **a chorus of screams echoed.

The two, colossal lizard-like creatures flew high up in the air in circles as if in search of something. Their scales glinted like deadly blades in the sunlight and their massive wings beat powerfully as they fought to keep themselves airborne. Each human in all four ships was so stunned by their appearance that the cannon fire had immediately ground to a halt. They all stared in awe of the dragons' magnificent colors: one silver, one gold.

Then, from inside the Golden Queen, a small, black creature zoomed up and into the sky.

"**NO! EINION!" **Arthur yelled.

There was a mighty crack! and in a blink of an eye, Einion had transformed into his full size in the air. The green-eyed man's shout has apparently attracted attention however, as the golden dragon turned his long neck in the direction of the sound.

It dived.

Many things happened at once.

The now huge, black dragon met with his golden foe with a sickening thud and was sent spiraling away, only to get blasted by the third dragon's fiery breath. The two small gunboats in the sea began steering in reverse, in hopes of avoiding getting burned to death. The commander of the Konstanze ordered his crew to stay firm, his red eyes gleaming in determination.

The golden dragon, undisturbed by the previous obstacle, raced towards the pirate ship, its eyes trained on Arthur. Only a few meters away from collision, it opened its mouth. Natalya curled her body over Arthur's protectively and let out an uncharacteristic small whimper.

Then it rained fire.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Yeah, I'm still alive, hi~ I'm so sorry


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

* * *

Matthew watched in terror as the fire-breathing beast enveloped the whole pirate ship with its deadly exhale. He could hear Gilbert giving orders in the background but he stood rooted in his spot, strangely fascinated. The situation they were in was so unique, a once-in-a-lifetime gruesome spectacle, that no man could resist being drawn to it, overtaking the natural instinct to flee from the obvious danger. The two gunboats eventually slowed down their escape to cheer at the incineration before them.

Oddly enough, there were no screams of pain or the revolting smell of burning flesh.

The _Konstanze_ was close enough to the pirate ship that its occupants should have been able to hear and smell the signs of death, but there were none.

_**"Why do you cower in fear? You should trust Ivan more, da?" **_a voice spoke, its cold resonance carried by the wind.

Hundreds of glittering diamonds burst from underneath the sphere of flames the golden dragon had created. Some of them pierced the flesh of the beast's face and sent it spiraling in the air in pain; it beat its leathery wings frantically as blood poured from its wounds, drenching the unfortunate humans below with the foul liquid. Its silver companion, alerted of the new threat, exhaled fire just as a second group of daggers emerged from the pirate ship and aimed at the already injured dragon. The silver dragon's fiery attack was clearly superior as it successfully obliterated its numerous challengers.

_**"Baby lizards should stay home with their mommies and out of the skies~" **_the icy, childlike voice taunted.

The sound seemed to come from _the Golden Queen_, but where the pirate ship once stood there was only a great iridescent dome floating liek an iceberg in the sea. It shimmered under the sun like a gem, making it impossible to see what had become of the infamous group of bandits.

The silver dragon emitted a mighty roar as if annoyed. Seeing its partner still useless, it directed its attack at the unnatural barrier, exhaling a continuous torrent of deadly blaze, steam rushing through its nostrils.

"Get ready boys! I don't really know what's happening, but once the shield's down, we'll continue our assault! Understood?!"

Matthew was roused from his stupor by his commander's voice.

"What? Wait! Gil!"

"That's Sir Weillschmidt to you, Williams!"

"Gil, listen to me! I don't think we should-"

"Shit, Matt! Don't tell me you want us to run just because of these damned lizards! We're _this_ close to catching Kirkland!" the red-eyed man said.

"AND WE'RE _THIS_ CLOSE TO DYING!" Matthew screamed and grabbed Gilbert by the collar. "THERE'S NO WAY WE CAN TAKE KIRKLAND _AND_ THOSE DRAGONS DOWN, DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?!"

"If there's a will, there's a way-THAT'S IT BOYS! FIRE!"

Alfred's brother turned around just in time to see the shimmering barier disappearing. At Gilbert's order, their cannons released a volley of bullets, and the air became thick with smoke. The navy men did not cease the attak even though they couldn't see anything; they kept on firing at the direction of _the Golden Queen_.

It was to their utter shock when a massive, silver object came sailing through the smoke and crashed violently against the poor hull of the _Konstanze_. The ship swayed at the impact, and the weight was proving to be unbearable as she began to tilt dangerously.

"Abandon ship!" Matthew yelled.

He could see the telltale shape of a spiked tail and horned wings; his fear was brought to life when the wind around them gathered speed and cleared away the smoke. Some great force had hurled the silver dragon directly at them and the beast was currently beating its wings on their deck as it labored to get back in the air.

"Come on boys, follow me! Take that iron ship!" Gilbert's voice resounded, seemingly uncaring whether the _Konstanze_ survived or not.

Chancing a glance at the enemy vessel, Matthew saw a giant of a man standing on its deck, very pale and wearing a playful smile. He felt his stomach drop.

"NO! GILBERT!"

His warning went naturally undeeded, and the blond young man watched helplessly as his allies grabbed lines and swung towards _the Golden Queen_.

* * *

Fierce combat followed as soon as the men of the Columbian Navy set foot on the pirate ship's deck. Swords clashed and guns were fired, and Alfred was immediately lost in the conflict. His injury held him back from fighting with all his strength, but he had managed to help his fellow navy men in taking down a pirate or two. Ivan and Arthur were curiously nowhere to be found. He could see Natalya, Francis, and Alejandro prominently amidst the flurry of movements, pressure clearly written on their faces as they tried to fend off their enemies; the number of their comrades had dwindled from Gilbert's group's sudden attack.

"KIRKLAND!" a man shouted and Alfred followed the source of the sound.

It was Gilbert, who, carrying only a curved sword, was foolishly staring up at Francis who had a gun aimed at his head.

"GILBERT!" The blue-eyed man jumped just in time to push his superior away from harm.

The bullet from Francis's gun hit the spot just inches away from their feet when they fell. Fortunately, the other navy men ran forward to keep the blond pirate busy, rendering him incapable of firing at the two again.

"Jones?! ALFRED!" Gilbert shouted near his ear, eyes wid with surprise.

"Yes! Yes, it's me! Gilbert, look-"

"What are you doing here-"

"I'll explain once we get back! For now...You've got the wrong man! _That's _not Arthur Kirkland!" Alfred yelled, pointing at Francis who was backing away from his many adversaries.

"What?! How can he not be-"

"Arthur Kirkland has green eyes! Shor hair, absolutely huge eyebrows-"

Gilbert shoved him away. "Are you fucking with me?!"

"No!"

"Then where is he?!"

"I don't-"

_"The Captain wants all the rats off his ship~"_

They both turned at the voice. Ivan had reappeared, and with a swing of his arm, ice formed on the ship's deck and moved in waves. However, before he could chuck all the blue-clad navy men into the sea, earsplitting roars filled the air. All of them, navy man or pirate, looked up to see the gold and silver dragons hovering above them.

Just as the two beasts opened their jaws to engulf the ship in flames once more, a third, huge creature sprang up from the sea. It shook its head once and a man fell onto the icy deck from where he sat on its nape.

"EINION! COME BACK!" Arthur screamed. he was drenced from head to foot, having followed the black dragon in its descent into the deep blue waters. He had succeeded in waking the dragon so it would not drown after it was brutally attacked, but he wasn't ready for what he was about to witness.

A long, deafening shriek shook them to their cores as Einion took the brunt of the fiery assault, using his own body to shield _the Golden Queen_. The black creature wailed and screeched but it refused to let the flames pass and harm the humans on the ship. This served to irk the two dragons more, and they intensified the blaze.

**"EINION!" **Arthur shouted once more, and unable to watch any longer, searched for the only solution. "IVAN! STOP IT! HELP HIM!"

But Ivan's face was already twisted in concentration. He willed for thick ice to form and act as a shield for the poor creature, but the two dragons' combined forces proved to be too powerful. The inferno melted the ice even before it could form.

"CAPTAIN!" Natalya shouted a warning.

A deadly ax was flying at Arthur's direction. He did not need to move though because his phantom guardian was already on it. The blade embedded itself on the glacial barrier Ivan had created around the green-eyed man.

"That's him! That's Arthur Kirkland!"

"Alright, Jones, I'll get him!" Gilbert promised. "But first, Mr. Frosty over there!"

"No, you can't touch him! He's a ghost!" the blue-eyed man explained.

Said ghost was already on his knees, crumpling under the intense demand of using his power. With a last, silent order, the element under his command pushed every man of the Columbian Navy off the ship and into the awaiting sea. Then he vanished in a quick, tiny burst of mist. The ice protecting Arthur disappeared with him.

Nobody had time to exclaim their schock at Ivan's disappearance though, as the dreadful stand-off in the skies continued. Finally, the two enemy beasts exhausted their flames, and Einion was able to break free of the blaze. The black dragon's body was marred with burns, its flesh horridly pink under the melted scales. It wasted no time retaliating; in an instant, Einion had viciously torn off a chunk of the silver dragon's neck with its teeth, bathing Arthur and the others in its blood. The creature fell with a great splash. Then Einion whirled around to bash the golden one with its tail but missed. The gold dragon was too quick for it and in seconds, Einion was given the same treatment, the gold beast's teeth sinking deep into the unprotected flesh of its neck.

**"NOOOO!" **Arthur yelled, and this time, it took Francis and Alejandro to hold him down as he flailed wildly, wanting to help his dragon friend but couldn't.

They all slipped as more dragon blood poured down on them from above. With one last mighty roar, Einion had plunged one of its forelegs into its opponent's chest. Together, the two beasts dropped into the deep.

The green-eyed captain of _the Golden Queen_ dropped to his knees. The two crew members who held him left to mourn, but there was still work to do. The _Konstanze_ and one gunboat had already sunk but the other navy ship was still around, picking up survivors. They had to get ready in case she tries attacking again.

* * *

"Haaah! Finally! Took your time, didn't you?!" Gilbert whined as he was lifted from the cold water. His men helped haul him up and just as he collapsed on the gunboat's deck, he found himself being pulled back to his feet.

"Oh, hi Rod-"

_SLAP!_

Roderich Edelstein had hit him in the face with the back of a gloved hand.

"I just want to let you know that there is no piano here and therefore I have no other choice but to let you feel how angry I am at you forcing me and my crew into this moronic escapade of yours." the bespectacled man stated.

"HEY! Didn't yo usee how great I was back there?! I almost had Kirkland!"

"Keyword being 'almost'. That does not change the fact that you are a sheer imbecile who would willingly sacrifice the lives of other people just so-"

"FINE! IF I HAD KNOWN YOU'LL BE THIS SPINELESS, I SHOULD'VE BROUGHT LUDWIG WITH ME!" the red-eyed man shouted.

"Gil-" a small voice interrupted.

"Your brother is a wise man. He knew the right time to leave the Columbian Navy: when _you_ became commodore." Roderich sniffed. "I wish quitting was that simple."

"Well, _I'm sorry_ my brother's not the man looking for an estranged wife who had run off with a pirate somewhere!"

"Excuse me?!"

"CAN'T THE TWO OF YOU JUST SHUT UP FOR ONE SECOND?! THE PIRATE SHIP'S STILL THERE!"

Gilbert and Roderich blinked. Matthew was standing between the, his eyes flaring.

"Lieutenant Williams, do you need reminding that I am your superior and thus you have no r-"

"Yada yada yada yada! Come on Matthew, let's go before-Oh shit, ALFRED!"

"What?"

"Alfred was on the fucking pirate ship, Matt! I saw him!"

Matthew suppressed a shiver of fear. All he managed was a weak repeat of "W-what?"

"I don't know...And fuck! The man on the posters...he's not Arthur Kirkland! We had the wrong man all along!" Gilbert screeched.

"That," Roderich began coldly, "isn't entirely surprising given your standards, Weillschmidt."

"Shut up you sissy!"

"B-but...But I didn't see my brother..."

"You guys didn't pull him out of the water?"

"N-no."

"Then Lieutenant Jones is still aboard the pirate ship, with us not knowing his true intentions. You know what that means."

Gilbert and Matthew looked at Roderich anxiously, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

The bron-haired man looked back at them grimly.

"Alfred F. Jones is hereby labeled a fugitive."

* * *

Arthur wiped angrily ath the tears that poured from his eyes.

He had run to the rarely-used engine room to retrieve a black stone from one of the boilers, a black stone that was the only part of Einion he still had. The stone was called dragon core, and for _the Golden Queen_ it served as an alternative source of power lest there was no wind to catch in the sails. As long as the dragon that had produced the stone was still alive and near, the sonte would glow and give off enough heat to make the pirate ship's engine run.

But the stone the green-eyed man held was cold. His tears slid off its hard surface, and his hands refused to stop shivering as the object touched his skin.

Einion was gone.

Einion, who he helped hatch from an egg given to him by his older brother.

Einion, who was his only true ally despite it being unable to speak to him.

With a mad shriek, Arthur threw the stone across the room with all his might. He was crazy, he knew, for considering such a dangerous beast as his friend, when he was surrounded by loyal _human_ subordinates.

"Fuck." he said simply.

Einion was gone; there was no power in the world that can revive him. But his subordinates were still alive and they all looked up to him to protect them. It wasn't supposed to be the other way around. He had been utterly useless in the fight earlier; what a shame to one who was allegedly the most powerful pirate in the world.

He scoffed and walked to where he had thrown the stone.

_The Golden Queen_ was damaged; two of its masts rendered ineffective by the battle meaning the ship can only run at a slow pace if they used the remaining sails to escape. They could stay and fight off the remaining gunboat, but his crew was already beat, and his breakdown earlier could only have hurt their morale even more.

There wasn't really any other option then.

He cradled the dragon core in his left hand as he concentrated.

Ordinary fire wouldn't ignit the stone, so he searched within him to find that small well of magic he knew he possessed. He hadn't told anyone, not even his brothers, about this ability of his; afraid that they would all turn away from him and his abnormality. In their generation, sorceres were considered cursed even though their world was brimming with magic. Magical creatures like dragons existed, but humans who could harness that kind of power were deemed as abominations. (Ivan was a whole other story since he picked up magic only _after_ he had died.) As isolation-loving as he was, he did not want to be shunned by society forever, so he kept the secret to himself, even if his magic was somewhat irregular and there wasn't much of it in him.

Arthur willed for fire to burn deep inside the dragon core.

But there came none.

He snapped his fingers, imagining them to produce sparks.

But nothing happened.

Anger and frustration boiled up inside him.

"I AM NOT LETTING THEM DIE BECAUSE OF MY STUPIDITY, DO YOU HEAR ME?!" he shouted at the stone. "JUST...JUST...ARGH! **FUCK IT!**"

He threw the stone once more, this time right back into the boiler.

A great explosion followed and Arthur coughed as smoke filled the room, threatening to suffocate him. Then to his surprise, the smoke cleared quickly for him to see a great fire burning from where the dragon core sat. He had managed to produce fire.

He ran to the boiler and shut its iron door, all the while unable to believe his achievement. It took a few seconds to feel the effects of the fire burning inside the boiler: _the Golden Queen_ suddenly lurched forward and he was sure the others were sent toppling onto their rears just like him when the ship finally moved.

The green-eyed man let out a little laugh and mopped his tears with his sleeve. Once he was sure he was presentable, he ran back to the uppermost deck.

So it was to the crew's absolute surprise to learn that their captain Arthur Kirkland had managed to make their ship run without coal, had jogged back to them with a crazy grin on his face, his clothes singed and covered in blood and soot, and knocked out their prisoner Alfred with just one swing of his right st and a short _"Blimey. Figured Ivan would forget about him since he's not in uniform."_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Hello dear readers! I would love to hear from you~

I have a few questions that may or may not affect the plot haha

*Which characters and pairings would you like to see in this fic?

*Is my writing format okay with you?

Reviews are totally appreciated; I have long lost the mood to write this story but I found the motivation to continue because of you guys! 3


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